


a warrior's heart

by lesbianauriel



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Bottled up emotions, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Nightmares, Psychological Trauma, Religious Cults, Vampires, Vitus Occasus Does Her Best, Werewolves, kodlak whitemane is the father we all want in our lives, local ghost assassin begrudgingly plays step-dad because his god of madness ex yelled at him to, lots of the chapters are based on songs because sure why not, rule number one of the murder cult: don't talk about the murder cult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 18:04:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianauriel/pseuds/lesbianauriel
Summary: Vi had expected lots of things for her life. In her youth, she'd wanted to be a mage, a scholar, a legionnaire. As she grew older, she found herself succumbing to dark influences - and when she finally broke free, she thought she'd be lucky to die a quiet death, unremembered by all.Unfortunately, she wasn't in luck's good graces anymore.





	1. in the woods somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> introducing the lesbian disaster herself!

Vi sat in the small shack she had claimed her home, breathing labored as she fought to control her panic.

Moonlight filtered in the slits of her roof, dappling on the floor and giving her precious little light to see. The wind blew in cold from the low mountain pass that connected Helgen to Riverwood. It came fast through the cracks and slits in the wood of her shack - she'd have to fix that, she thought, mood turning even more sour.

She pushed herself up off her bed. Her linens clung uncomfortably to her frame, soaked by sweat. She cursed under her breath, quickly tossing them off and pulling on a fresher cotton shirt. She undid her tucked braids and ran her fingers through the knotted mess; content, she pulled her hair into a low ponytail. It was as good as it was going to be.

She pushed the door open to the small garden that sat outside her home. The smell of flowers - nightshade and deathbell, thistle and lilies - always hung lightly in the air. Both moons were full, looking a bit like blisters in need of lancing. She smiled to herself, nose scrunching up. She should really work on trying to find the beauty in life. She felt her heart return to a steady beat as she stood in the cold air. Frostfall was certainly on the way.

That was when she heard it. A scream, maybe - a wounded animal. Or someone in trouble. She froze where she stood.

Before she realized what she was doing, she had her two daggers slung about her waist in a leather strap and her legs were carrying her out of the safety of the shack and into the small mountain pass. She cursed at herself silently, nearly stumbling a few times as she raced towards the noise. She was getting further and further into the pass, the boulders that had been scattered around her shack being replaced by increasingly high and jagged stones. She always felt claustrophobic passing through there, at the base of the Throat of the World. Her heartbeat shuddered as mountains surrounding her seemed to press in. What was she doing? What in the name of -

Her foot caught on a stone, sending her tumbling. She hit the floor of the pass with a heavy thud, wincing. Carefully, she pushed herself up, moving each of her limbs - no major injuries. Good, good.

And she found the source of the scream.

She blinked owlishly at the whimpering fox. That little orange thing had made that sound? It certainly didn't look like much, but -

Her face scrunched when she saw the bone exposed in its hind legs, the tooth-marks of a large wolf sundering its flesh. It was a bad break, and the fox had already lost a lot of blood - its white underbelly was matted red. Silently, with all the precision and purpose of a surgeon, she bent down and unsheathed the blade on her left hip and sliced the poor creature's neck. She scratched its head, as comfortingly as she could, until she was certain its whimpering quieted and its body went still.

She turned her attention to the legs. It was the bite of a large wolf, she was certain - she'd treated herself for them several times over when she still lived in Falkreath's Forest. But it would have to be larger than any wolf she'd seen to make a tear that bad - and the fact remained that the beast had leaved the poor thing alive. It was toying with it.

She straightened herself out, only to be met with glistening yellow eyes peering out at her from a small stone hollow in the side of the mountain. She went rigid, unable to make out any details in the dark, but if that growling was anything to go by...

Vi had only seen a werewolf once in her life. She'd screamed with a broken voice when he fell. She forced her lungs to take in a breath of air, holding her unsheathed dagger at her side - ready to strike, if need be, but not a pressing danger to the beast.

"I mean you no harm," She spoke, backing away carefully from the creature. "I had heard what I thought was a woman's scream. I came to investigate."

The wolfbeast pressed forward, away from the hollow. Vi could see more clearly in the moonlight. Its fur was a deep brown, blood staining its mighty, snarling maw. Vi took another step back, and the wolfbeast started a slow circle around her.

"I won't tell anyone I found you," Vi said. Oblivion be damned, she didn't know if werewolves could understand speech when they were in beast form. She was playing a guessing game. "I live on my own, away from any villages - it's not like they'd believe the crazy woman who lives in the woods anyway."

That seemed to satisfy the wolfbeast. Its ears perked up at the sound of a howl - and it spared only a glance to Vi as it took off down the mountain path, tearing up the road as it went. West, Vi realized - the wolfbeast was heading towards Riverwood. She let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and like a shadow, she returned to her home.

She'd go west tomorrow, she decided, as she laid down her daggers on the barrel-nightstand beside her bed. If the wolfbeast's response to the howl was anything to go by, there was a pack nearby, to the west. She'd find out soon enough.


	2. smoke in the east

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shadow; a dream; and a World-Eater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will this be updated regularly? absolutely not. will it be updated, though? probably!

_She was in the Void._

_Vitus assumed it was the Void, anyway, if the entirety of nothingness that encased her was anything to go by. She blinked, glancing down at herself. She was wearing something... Odd. Golden and blue and... ethereal, almost, energy, flowing through her body and materializing as scaled armor on her skin. She sat there, floating helpless in the dark, when she heard a very soft humming._

_She glanced around, looking for the source of the noise. She looked above her, and found herself staring into two giant blood-red eyes._

_A thousand images flashed through her head - memories both hers and not - a woman with skin like snow. A bow crafted by the sun. A battlefield, stretched out for a thousand miles. A temple as her body combusted. A swirling pool of color in the sky, a dragon, old and grey, a man sobbing at the foot of a statue. the laughter of a woman she thinks she loves, a man in a golden mask - _

_The eyes blinked, reptilian. The images - the memories - crumbled away into dust, and the smell of fire hung heavy in the airless Void and it was all fading, and then, then - _

_\--_

She woke to the sound of a caravan of carts moving east. A rather large caravan. And a rather _loud_ one - 

"_Down with Ulfric! The killer of kings! On the day of your death, we will DRINK and we'll sing!_"

Vi cursed quietly as the Imperials made their way through. Did Ulfric die or something? The caravan was an Imperial one, apparently, and they had nearly yelled 'on the day of your death'. She supposed it evened out the playing fields for them - the Imperials lost their Emperor and the Stormcloaks lost Stormcloak. She waited until the caravan passed to make any real move to start the day.

The sun was already well on its daily ascent. She blinked hard, rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes as she swung her legs over her bed. She pushed herself up, yawning and stretching her arms. She had something to do today, didn't she? Something other than listen to soldiers march noisily down the path. She rolled her shoulders as she thought. Something about a wolf out west.

She shucked off her cotton shirt and replaced it with a brown leather cuirass. She grabbed some bread she had been saving and stuffed a piece in her mouth while struggling to pull on her greaves, nearly falling once or twice. She took another bite as she pulled on her worn-out boots - she'd stop by Riverwood and grab a new pair, she decided. These were already half in the grave. She pulled on her nearly-as-worn bracers and fastened her leather belt around her waist. She pulled out both of her daggers from their sheaths - Octavius, the edged one on her right hip, and the straight-bladed enchanted ebony on her left - and checked for any rust or irregularities. Seeing that all was well, she went about preparing for the trip.

She took in a deep breath of fresh mountain air. Maybe she'd head east first, go to Helgen to see what the fuss was about. Grab the new boots there, and then double-back and go east to Riverwood. It sounded like a plan.

\--

Vi had been walking for about an half an hour, she reckoned, when she neared the Imperial town. She had caught herself humming some old bar tune she learned back when she worked at Newlands Lodge, smiling a bit as she tried to remember the lyrics. It was a Dunmer song, about... Red Mountain exploding. She mumbled under her breath, "Grab a flask and lift it high, who wants to die with a thirst?" Something along those lines, she figured.

An uneasy silence had settled in the forest around her. She slowed her walk, coming to a standstill as she glanced around. Usually, there'd be the sound of some animal foraging nearby or the beat of the wings of pesky insects. She reached for her daggers, taking comfort in their familiar grip. A strange sound came from higher upon the mountain, like a distant, warbling roar lost in an echo. She started to continue up the path again, cresting the hill and laying eyes upon Helgen. She chuckled to herself, sighing as relief flooded into her blood. So paranoid, she chastised. She looked up to see how far the sun had risen into the sky, when she saw a... a shadow, near the Throat of the World. Her brows furrowed.

Inky black against the sky, easily the size of Dragonsreach, and moving towards the city - towards _her_ \- at an astonishing speed. The townsfolk noticed it, too - It dived low and bellowed a sound like metal scraping against stone, flames erupting from its jagged maw. Vi felt her heart catch in her throat as the creature made another sound, this time like thunder, and the sky above Helgen began to change, shift and - and it became sanguine, rocks tearing holes in the sky as they plummeted into the town with mighty thuds. She felt the back of her hand press into her mouth, biting down hard as she suppressed a... a scream? A sob? She stumbled backwards, the smell of smoke and ash and burnt flesh filling the air, and the _thing_ tore into a tower, destroying it like a child's toy.

It reached into the rubble of the tower and grabbed something, flinging it high into the air. Vi only realized it was a man when she heard him scream. The thing grabbed him out the air as he was falling, flying up high and releasing him - it was toying with the poor man. Gods have mercy. Gods -

It swooped low and landed on the garrison, the wood and stone cracking and tumbling under its huge weight. It let out the terrible metal-and-stone sound again, sending fire to burn anything in its path, the rocks plummeting gaining in speed, when its neck turned, and -

And Vi found herself staring into two blood-red eyes.

She unsheathed her daggers just as the creature flew away.


End file.
